


Not Quite Anything

by Brucenorris007



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Not quite as dramatic as the summary implies, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27200891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brucenorris007/pseuds/Brucenorris007
Summary: Kim made a horrible mistake.She could do anything.Except let Ron walk away.
Relationships: Kim Possible & Ron Stoppable
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Not Quite Anything

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a response to the fics I've seen where Kim doesn't believe Ron in So The Drama. I love most of those stories, I just...  
> Season one Kim, maybe that could happen. By season three?  
> I think it'd go more like this.

“Ron, are you… jealous?”

Kim knew, almost the second the words left her mouth, that she’d made a mistake. Ron’s face, always expressive and open to her, cycled through confusion, frustration, shock and settled on _hurt_. Kim winced. 

Still, a plot by Drakken using Bueno Nacho toys? Even for her arch-nemesis, it sounded kind of silly. Not that Kim could bring herself to dismiss Ron entirely out of hand, frantic as he’d been, but he _was_ resistant to change, to put it mildly. And Bueno Nacho rated pretty highly on his list of favorite things.

“I mean”

“Well of _course_ he’s jealous, K.”

Kim bit back a sigh of irritation at the interruption, turning to scowl at Bonnie. Miss Queen Bee sauntered over, smirking and looking extraordinarily catty, even for her.

“What’s wrong? Haven’t given your loser enough attention? ‘Kim, my disgusting nachos are different and the world’s ending!’ Please. He just feels _neglected_. It’s only natural to want what you can’t have, isn’t it?”

Kim practically saw red. Were she _any_ less restrained, or any less practiced in the art of weathering hurricane Bonnie, she would have demonstrated all sixteen forms of kung fu she knew on the spot, dress or no dress. She glowered, hands fisted, finding her equilibrium again to keep herself from escalating to violence. She took a breath for a brutal, _completely warranted_ , verbal stripping of Bonnie’s hide. 

“Forget it.”

Ron’s voice, quiet and hollow and _resigned_ , rang louder for Kim than anything else in the gym. She snapped her head around, heart clenching at his completely shuttered expression. 

“Just forget it,” he said bitterly, shrugging. “Have fun with your date and your new bestie, _Kimberly_.”

Kim couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d been slapped in the face. 

Frankly, she might have preferred that.

“What?” She said, breathless.

Ron Stoppable, her best friend, had just lumped her together with Bonnie Rockwaller. 

Worse, with only the barest reflection on the past few minutes, she realized she _deserved_ it.

The world stopped turning, gravity ceased its pull, and Kim’s voice failed her as Ron disappeared from the gym, from her _life_.

Okay, maybe she was being slightly dramatic. Ron had effectively just dismissed her, though. And referred to Bonnie as her ‘new best friend’ in the process.

Which was… just sick and wrong on _all_ levels. 

Someone said her name, but Kim, trying to remember how to breathe and moving on autopilot, only registered it as white noise. She grabbed her clutch, power walking toward the exit, ignoring everything else as superfluous. If she stayed, she risked either crying her eyes out or venting her heartache by maiming Bonnie.

The Queen Bee would only be a stand in for herself, though. 

Since preschool, Kim had approached everything with the confidence her Dad’s advice gave her.

_Anything’s possible for a Possible._

She hoped, more than ever, that he’d been right. She’d rather fight an army of Shego’s than leave things as they were.

“Kim.”

Eric’s hand caught her shoulder, gently turning her back to face him. 

His touch didn’t feel quite as magical as it had when the night started.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” he said. He gestured to the other students, dancing again. “You only get one junior prom.”

Kim blinked at him. 

She looked around the gym, at the strobe lights, the balloons and decorations, and the DJ. All the girls in dresses they’d spent weeks searching for, the guys in rented tuxes. 

Kim blinked again, gaze focused on the snack table with the punch bowl. An image of a blond dork popped into her head, clad in a bow tie and all but guarding the ‘snackage', laughing at some inside joke with Felix, occasionally meeting eyes with her and waving. 

She thought of Ron, his favorite gross greasy food, weirdly divine cooking and goofy grins, wearing cargo pants specifically for Rufus’ comfort. Because Ron just cared that much.

Kim looked back at Eric. 

_‘I only have one Ron.’_

Was there any debate here?

She mumbled some sort of excuse, an explanation, a promise she’d be back soon- she honestly didn’t know. She might have just shrugged off his hand without saying anything. She hoped not, but she _had_ to make things right.

Practically running by the time she reached the doors, she let out a sigh of relief on seeing Ron’s scooter still parked there. The blond was nowhere in sight though. After a moment’s thought, Kim ran for the school, and their lockers. She knew he’d tried- scratch that, _had_ gone solo on missions before, and she had no reason to think he’d do any different if he thought… if he thought she didn’t believe him. 

“Ron!”

She called for him before she’d even turned the last corner. He stood in front of his locker, already changed, jersey swapped out for his black top.

He slammed his locker shut, turning away without even looking at her, let alone saying anything.

“Ron, wait!”

Kim raced forward to snag his wrist, huffing from the brief sprint and anxiety at the thought of her apology devolving into a confrontation. They’d been best friends for twelve years, their shared history included plenty of arguments and apologies from both sides. 

He’d never been this hurt or angry at her, before, though.

And, until now, she’d never tanked this hard.

She didn’t know what to expect.

“Shouldn’t do that. Someone might see,” Ron said. Kim, still bordering on desperate to fix her mistake, couldn’t follow his thought process. He shook the arm she held, his voice unusually thick. “Don’t want anyone to tell the Food Chain that you’re touching a loser.”

“Stop,” Kim snapped, anger spiking again at the mention of the school’s stupid hierarchy. She squeezed his wrist. “Just stop. You’re more important than the Food Chain.”

_‘You’re more important, period.’_

Ron still wouldn’t look at her. He raised his other arm to his face, passing his sleeve over his eyes. 

Was he-

Sniff.

_Great_. Kim bit her lip, her own eyes misting. So much for not crying. 

She couldn’t think of another time she’d felt so _wretched_. She’d all but accused her best friend of making up a global threat to get her attention. Because, what, he missed her? Envied all the time she spent with Eric? Wanted to ascend on the school’s social ladder?

Ron had proven, more than once, to be just as susceptible to jealousy as anybody, and he did, occasionally, covet the so-called perks of a higher standing in the Food Chain. He had, a few times, even expressed envy of Kim’s position in school. But while he could be rather vocal with his complaints about, well, anything, he had never _once_ resented her for it. And he would never be so _petty_ as to pretend…

Kim squeezed her eyes shut. Just thinking about what she’d implied made her nauseas. 

“I’m sorry.”

Kim swallowed the lump in her throat, tugging at Ron’s wrist, urging him to just _look_ at her. She was afraid of letting go, terrified that he might actually walk away, that he wouldn’t forgive her.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. If pressed, she’d plead temporary insanity. “I _do_ trust you. I just…” she trailed off. She couldn’t offer an explanation she didn’t have. “I’m so sorry, Ron.”

Kim took a deep breath, eyes shut again to try keeping the tears at bay. 

She felt something soft brush against her face. 

She peeked.

Ron had finally looked at her, using his sleeve, tugged over his thumb, to gently dry her eyes. 

Kim let go of his wrist, looking at him look at her. She knew there were half a dozen things to do. She had to call Wade, investigate the whole Drakken thing, ask about the Diablo toys, give Eric a more satisfying reason for leaving.

First, though-

“Are we… okay?”

Ron frowned, and Kim’s heart sank. 

“No,” he said, and though he looked tweaked, she could read his expressions again, could hear life back in his voice. “Drakken corrupted the sanctity of Bueno Nacho and ruined it! Taking over the world is one thing, but he just made this _personal_ , KP!”

_‘KP.’_

Kim smiled, even as she shifted into mission mode and pulled out her Kimmunicator. She knew she’d been forgiven, whether or not he’d said it in so many words. Still, even with immense relief washing over her, she found that her Dad’s advice didn’t provide quite the same comfort it usually did.

As she’d learned just minutes earlier, ‘anything’ included mistakes, even acting like a stuck-up shallow girl from Upperton. 

And she could lose Ron just as well as she could keep him in her life.

“Wade, I need you to check something.”

Kim resolved she wouldn’t forget that.


End file.
